sw1mushfandomcom-20200215-history
RPlog:A Purpose for Us All
---- Chianar Plaza -- New Alderaan: Ord Mantell A beautiful plaza is etched of white stone into a large plain nestled between the surrounding hills of New Alderaan. Spanning nearly a quarter mile in diameter, the plaza is framed on almost every side by rolling hills, where other districts of the city can be seen carved into the rich landscape. Beautiful buildings spot the northern and southern hills, with the more utilitarian structures of the starport and military base flanking the west and east, respectively. The plaza is landscaped with small gardens and art-inspired water features, meant to reflect various significant cultures in the galaxy. An information kiosk stands outside the central rail station, whose elevated maglev tracks snake off into the surrounding districts at various heights, meant to accentuate the decor, rather than obstruct it. A tall memorial structure, carved of synthetic Alderaanian marble, is the center point of a large, central garden, flanked by an open-air pavilion under a transparisteel dome. A tall theater, a wide museum, street vendors, and an open air art gallery are some of the cultural points of interest that mark the plaza. The sky is clear, with a gentle breeze blowing. A wispy, pinkish cloud occasionally appears overhead. "I was attacked in one of those shopping districts," Shael explains, flicking off the screen on her datapad for the moment. "Then I was in the Alderaanian Memorial Museum when it was attacked. And /someone/," though Shael knows perfectly well who, "attacked me while I was flying over the planet, and I ended up crashing into a skyscraper. Not to mention what happened when I tried to run the blockade." The planet's cursed. For her at least. "I'd rather be on any planet but Coruscant. Like this one, for example. I'm kinda fond of this one." "Ouch, I can definately see why you wouldn't like it. But, it could always be much worst.", not by that much, but worse still. "Oh, Ord Mantell isn't exactly that respectable of a place, though perhaps the fun involved in such things.", what little of it there is anyway, "Might be what you need?" Yes, indeed Rasi is up a tree, sitting on one of the lower branches, with Shael higher up, his eyes remain fixed on the large structure of the temple, not too far from where they are, though he does look away from time to time. "Myself, any planet is good as far as I'm concerned." A dark haired woman in a pale gray suit emerges from the transit car in the company of a tall bulky looking man with a serious expression on his face and flinty eyes. The dark haired woman moves easily through the market place, her hands clasped behind her back and speaking infrequently to her escort, mainly receiving short answers or mere nods or gestures in reply. From the way the man surveys the crowd and his proximity to the woman it would appear the he is guarding, or perhaps escorting her, through the market place. The expression on the woman's face is subtle, but a keen observer would see the faintest hint of impatience in her bearing, read the stubbornness in the set of her shoulders. "Getting shot at isn't fun," Shael declares firmly. "Piloting is fun. Climbing trees is fun. Making death-defying jumps on my swoop is fun. Getting shot at and having things explode nearby... not fun. And you're right, I have seen some interesting things about Ord Mantell in the holos lately. But it isn't nearly as bad as Coruscant." Nothing is as bad as Coruscant. Not even Tatooine. Unlike Rasi, Shael's eyes wander around more than staying in one place. So it doesn't take her long to notice Lynae wandering through the gardens with another escort. "Hey... It's the Imperial again." Rasi says, "The Imperial?", a quick look around, and the former Commodore is spotted. "Well, shall we go present ourselves, perhaps she will not be as eager to depart as she was the day past.", and with that said, Rasi swings his legs over the branch, and from there, it is but a brief fall to the ground. After a quick check to see that nothing is broken, he waves down Shael, in case she did not climb down, before walking over to the guarded woman. "Greetings there. Have you taken a liking to this park?"" The man at Lynae's side turns to watch the approaching young man, recognizing him with a nod of greeting and respect before shifting his gaze again to studying the crowd. Lynae turns as well, her gaze sweeping over the immediate area before landing on the young man from the previous day. "Technically, I believe the map indicates this area to be a Plaza," she says by way of initial reply. "It is adequate for it's purpose, and this open air market is a good addition," she adds. "As far as planets go, this one seems rather well organized." Shael jumps down from her branch easily, landing lightly on her feet, with her datapad still in one hand. In her other hand is another of those nuts she kept pulling off the tree. She tosses this idly as she walks. She nods casually to the Commodore as she approaches, and greets her with a friendly enough 'hey.' The escort gets a curious glance as well. "That reaming you gave that girl yesterday? That was classic. I loved it." Lynae inclines her head slightly towards Shael before replying, "Rudeness should never be rewarded, especially in the young," she says simply in a low clear voice. "It is in the hope that such behavior, if corrected often enough, can be unlearned before it is ingrained. As I said, pretty is transient but ignorant is forever." "Why bother, however, unless one must?", replies Rasi, in an offhand manner, though quickly his attention returns to the two women, a simple nod having been offered to Lynae's guard. "And I believe that one must only when they cannot afford to leave them alone. How are you doing today Miss Cassius?" At least that is the name he was told to use when they last met. But more pressing than 'how are you,' is... "I'm gonna go ahead and ask what I've been wondering," Shael says with little preamble. "What're you doing here? I take it your not a prisonner, since you're being let out and about. The escort's for /your/ protection, then?" She still recalls, rather vividly, the strange conversation she had overheard after her race. Had the Commodore really defected? Strange, for such a high-placed officer. "Well enough, thank you," Lynae replies to Rasi before turning her gaze towards Shael and her asked questions. Standing silently for a moment as she studies the young woman, Lynae finally replies after a moment of quiet consideration. "As I have, as of yet, to be arrested or formally charged with anything, I do not count myself as a prisoner of anyone. The escort is for both my protection and, perhaps, for yours. I am, apparently, considered somewhat of a dangerous person," she adds with a faint smile. "As to why am I here, that's a bit of a personal question, to which I will answer that I am attending to some unfinished business with a patient who has not adequately received the extent of care required. But I cannot speak more on that, doctor patient confidentiality, you understand." "I would not have guessed that at all.", which means that Rasi should spend more time reading up on the profiles of the Empire's more ranked, or at the least well-known officer. "I believe that she was asking not as to why you are here, specifically, but rather, why you are not in the Empire. Yes, Miss?", Shael that is, as it is she he looks at. "Now, if I were to put one and one together, and with the assumption that the answer is always two. The question one must ask is why would an Imperial Commodore, especially one that's well-respected in the Empire, willingly come all the way out here in the Republic. Admittedly, it might be a ploy from their Intelligence service, but that's just too brazen even for Imperials. Who knows, we might just be getting that long-awaited for peace treaty or some such." He doesn't bet on it, but some can hope. Lynae arches one eyebrow at Rasi, her blue eyes widening ever so slightly as he outlines his speculation and her immediate reply is a look of faint amusement accompanied by the barest hint of a smile. "I am many things, sir, but I am not an intel operative. I am a doctor, and I am here only for that purpose. I have no interest in intrigue nor in brazen conduct or daring deeds. As to peace treaties, I have had little luck in seeing those that I have worked on hold water for more than a few weeks at a time. I shall leave such matters to those who have the patience for such things, for I do not. But I find your speculations to be.. " she pauses, searching for a word or phrase, and settles on, "intriguing." "That may be so, but we still like to keep an eye out." A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Vengan's mouth, where the young Marine lieutenant stands in the near shadow of an alley archway. Aside from a sidearm he doesn't have a weapon in his hand, arms folded across his chest. Even beneath the cover of the brim of his fatigue cap, however, his eyes faintly glow with a natural green luminosity. He holds a hand up as he speaks, before crossing his arms across his chest once more. "I'm just here just to be here," he says assuringly. "Word gets around when an Imperial doctor arrives on New Alderaan, and we'd just the same like to make sure no one starts shooting...on our side or yours." Things are coming along very nicely, Enb'Zik has decided, as he walks back toward Chianar Plaza from the construction site of the future Jedi temple. He has a lot of work to do -- almost as much as he's had at any time since leaving the Senate -- but it's somehow fulfilling. Refreshing. Words float on the breeze toward him, Sullustan hearing being what it is, from a distance. Blinking at the timbre and pitch of the female voice, Ikihsa turns his head, his brow creasing with recognition that doesn't quite fully identify the subject. Words like "intel" and "doctor" and "peace treaties" might be good clues, though. Adjusting his course, Enb'Zik is initially just curious. Then another clue is clarified further -- "Imperial doctor." Ikihsa makes no effort to hide himself as he approaches, now at about fifty meters away. The well-clad, the only thing missing being a ponytail but that'd be just too cheesy,man shrugs, hands clasped behind his back, "Oh, that is but one of many. It was just the first that came to mind, and among the more likely. You must admit that given your persona, as well as the recent string of....interesting news out of your Empire, there is much to speculate on." Something which Rasi has most certainly been contemplating as soon as he met the woman the past day. "As for the other part, well, there is a rule somewhere that says that for safety's sake, it is best to assume that pretty much anything or anyone to do with the Empire might very well somehow be connected to its intelligence service. Call it a testament to their skill." Again he shrugs, showing the sudden turn to the conversation to be as much light as it is serious. Inclining her head in greeting towards the fatigue clad marine, Lynae remains silent for the moment as Rasi speaks up again. Her expression remains impassive, polite in a blandly neutral sort of way, as she speaks, "It is far better to know that one is being watched and where the observers are, than to wait for them to catch up before continuing on," she says simply. "At least this way no one is tripping over anyone else." She switches her gaze towards Rasi before continuing, "Interesting news?" she queries in a mild voice, "Well now, the news is always interesting. One part truth, three parts filler. Your best guess as to what's what, of course. Who is it that said 'I don't explain the news, I just report it'?" she inquires with a lift of one shoulder in a shrug. "One should never assume, however. It leads to unexpected results," she concludes even as her gaze shifts again to study the approaching Sullustan, a hint of recognition in her gaze. Vengan inclines his head towards Lynae in return, looking for all the world like a man enjoying the afternoon air of New Alderaan- aside from his uniform. "Let's face it, there's not much difference between Intel and news reporting," he comments in reply to Lynae's words. "Someone risks life or limb to find out information, they send it to higher. Higher reports it to a mass of people. No proper credit is given and the people forget what was told them the next day anyway." He draws a thumbnail along the side of his jaw, scratching the skin lazily, before letting his arms settle across his chest once more. Vengan's gaze follows Lynae's as she looks down the road, recognition dawning much more rapidly than it does for the doctor. An observant eye would catch his lips moving near-soundlessly, though what's being said- and to whom- is anyone's guess. The past between Ikihsa Enb'Zik and Doctor Lynae Cassius is one that's always had them personally separated from one another, yet each somehow influencing the other in some way. Their first encounter, for a good example, was perhaps as close to death as the Sullustan has ever been -- due to her instruction to have an Imperial ship ram the NRSD Crusader while Ikihsa was laying wounded in one of its corredors. As the woman looks to him, the Sullustan dips his head solemnly in greeting but doesn't say anything initially. He's not unfriendly, but is simply listening to a conversation he is not a part of. He glances at Vengan, as well, recognizing him vaguely from the operations reports he still occasionally gets his pallid hands on. "One should only do the best they can with the little they have, information included, and hope for the best. I prefer that, it has a more hopeful tone to it, wouldn't you agree?", Rasi replies with a quick grin, though it disappears when he figures just who everyone is looking at all of a sudden. "And by news, I meant news concerning the Imperial military, and lately, there's only one subject that matters as far as the Empire's forces are concerned. And it is one I did not see coming, entirely.", ok, so that last part is entirely bravado, but he keeps a straight face, not letting that smile appear on his face, and his attention quickly turns back to Zik. "It's not that people forget," Lynae says simply, "it's that so often they don't care. So often that it doesn't affect their daily lives or those around them. The larger issues are played out on a scale that cannot be understood to someone struggling to find the next meal or the medicine they need. Why worry about who's doing what, when and where, when there are far more pressing issues at hand." She shakes her head slowly, her gaze still tracking the movement of the Sullustan, "And which thing might that be?" Lynae inquires in that same mildly curious tone of voice. Vengan lets a slow, subtle grin cross his face, but doesn't make any immediate reply to Lynae's words, letting himself naturally drift away from the conversation as his gaze shifts upwards. Long years of habit guide him to search out rooftops and upper windows, a sort of cultivated paranoia not unknown in professional soldiers. Vengan's lips move once more, soundlessly, even as he shifts his arms across his chest. If there are other uniformed soldiers out in the area, they are doing an admirable job of keeping themselves concealed from casual view. He nods politely at Enb'zik as he approaches, recognizing the Sullustan from previous encounters. Ikihsa is watched by the other three until he takes the last steps toward them. He nods in return to Vengan, but his eyes return to Lynae naturally. "I hope you won't mind my joining the three of you," he offers in a quiet voice, "but this isn't a topic one hears discussed openly in the streets with any real frequency." He looks among the trio and adds, "Especially among individuals with so much personal experience in the field." The last bit coming /has/ to be directed at Lynae, for it mildly amazes Enb'Zik that someone with an (even former) Imperial background would be concerned with the day-to-day struggles of regular people: "Yet the larger issues affect the tiniest ones, even if the common sentient doesn't realize it. That's where the need for fairness and compassion among those who make the larger decisions becomes necessary, is it not?" His manner betrays nothing more than simple curiousity, as if he were a student trying to comprehend something. "It is said that the power of the government is drawn directly from the will, and used at the behest, of the governed themselves. And that the leaders are responsible to, and therefore responsible for, the governed themselves. So often we see that the leaders govern merely for the sake of the power that they wrest from the people. While the governed become less and less engaged, and more apathetic and accepting as generation after generation of leaders are people that we would not trust to care for our own children, let alone the government or the nation, or the ideals for which they are supposed to stand," Lynae says quietly as she studies Enb'Zik. "It is also said that every ruler should strive for his people to love him, but if love cannot be inspired, than fear will do. Love is better, but fear will do the job. So the question remains then: Will fear do the job, will fear feed the people and keep them safe, or is love good enough?" "There is a middle ground between love and fear known as compromise. It is the heart of democracy, diplomacy, and statesmanship," Enb'Zik replies in a well-practiced voice. "The inability to inspire love does not necessitate the use of fear in love's place. Indeed, that becomes the definition of tyranny. Though if any good thing can be said of tyranny, perhaps it is that tyranny and fear both inspire the apathetic and accepting back to action. Perhaps even to arms. When that happens, those who abuse the public trust for their own power may be deposed, and the new government will become the servant of the governed, rather than the tyrant." "Forgive me, sir, but those are lovely words. But I was bred to fight this war, and have spent most of my life doing just that. The time for compromise is long since past, and those that fight continue to fight for things that were done long before they were born. To right the injustices that happened long before our parents drew their first breath, or our grandparents eyes first met. War becomes a machine, a way of being, a creature - entity - in and of itself. It breathes in chaos and hatred and spews out dead bodies," Lynae says in an oddly gentle tone of voice. Ikihsa holds his gaze steady with Lynae, for as long as she will hold his. "Indeed, the /opportunity/ to compromise is long since past. It passed when a Supreme Chancellor discarded democracy and made himself an Emperor, deceiving the public who trusted him into giving him more and more power until he /could/ claim such power." The Sullustan's voice is as quiet as the woman's when he speaks, thoughtfulness brought about by her implication that the war was begun by things in motion long before the time of Palpatine. Enb'Zik sighs softly, then concedes, "But we can agree that war is an ugly tragedy. How does one of your upbringing propose to slay such an entity, if I may ask it?" "I once said that the only way for me to stop signing death certificates, and to stop having to write letters to the families of my dead soldiers, was to completely eradicate the forces of the Rebellion. That the only way for my men and women to stop dying was to make sure that there was no one left to fight," Lynae says calmly, her gaze holding with Enb'Zik's as she continues speaking. "How does one slay war? Perhaps by refusing to fight it any longer. Let those handful of diplomats and tyrants issue all the orders they want, but have the hands that actually do the work, the bodies that actually do the bleeding, refuse the orders on a grand scale. Mass refusal to engage. For the people themselves are just that, they are people. With hearts, minds, desires, fears, friendships and hopes for the future. They are people. Not mindless droids to be sent into the breech heedless of the consequences. The purpose of a solider is NOT to die," she says with a measure of vehemence that surprises her into taking a soft breath and composing herself once again. "The purpose of a soldier is not to simply be cast aside as just another number, and I will refuse to accept that statement as the only purpose of a soldier in this war. Each one is irreplaceable, is unique, and the loss of even one due to recklessness and disregard for life is unacceptable. There is much to be said about being conservative with all assets, especially the living ones. Any leader that orders his soldiers to do that which he himself is not willing to do does not deserve to lead." As Lynae talks, her passion causing her voice to build, the Force whispers to Enb'Zik at something specific that escapes her lips. The Sullustan blinks in that wide, owlish way that Sullustans do, but the expression -- if there was one -- quickly passes. The woman likely has no idea of the profound impact her words may have. Enb'Zik himself has no idea, but time and meditation and the Force may reveal it to him. What he knows now is that meditation will be necessary. When she finishes, Ikihsa's face is passive again. There is a long moment of silence between them, in which the only sounds are those uttered by the burbling water features surrounding them, along with the blissfully ignorant squeals of playing children in the distance. "You do not speak like an Imperial, Lynae Cassius," he states in a quiet voice. Lynae's own reaction to his statement is brief, a subtle flinching in her eyes and in her expression, swiftly concealed as she slaps a neutral expression back in place. Her words are mild and carefully measured, "I was a doctor long before I ever took command of a naval vessel, Sir," she says with a touch of formality in her voice once again, perhaps her default setting. "And I have taken many oaths in my life, and the most recent are the most pressing. To forswear those oaths would be to undo everything that I am, or perhaps what I could have been." She lifts one shoulder in the faintest of shrugs, "But that is neither here nor there. I did not come all this way to stir up trouble, merely to attend to one who is not sufficiently healed to my standards. If I am unable to attend to that, then I merely ask to be on my way again. I do not bring war with me." A slow, thoughtful nod is Enb'Zik's answer to the doctor's claims. "I believe you did not," he answers finally. He knows he could be wrong, but there is no danger that his fledgling senses are able to detect from her being here. His dark eyes look for a moment to either side before he goes on, "But be careful. If I could identify you, and if Lieutenant Draelis could, others can, as well. Not all may be so willing to listen to your evident wisdom." Drawing a breath, Enb'Zik steps back and bends briefly at the waist, seemingly with a need now to be going. "I wish that we could lay down our weapons and fight no longer," he states, his voice utterly sincere. "But if we did, those who have stolen power would keep it, and they would continue to destroy the innocent lives the common sentient who merely wishes to find his next meal or the medicine she needs to survive." He purses his lips, then adds, "But I sense that in your words there is still some potential, some wisdom, some answer to all of this." Lynae casts a side long glance at her shadow, and silent, escort before shifting her gaze back to Enb'Zik, a faint smile hovering on her lips. "I have already been recognized. Though I am pleased that they scaled back my escort from four to just this one," she nods again towards the silent and inconspicuously attired Marine standing but a few feet away. The marine in mention gives one of those noncommittal slight nods of acknowledgement but remains silent, as he has during the entire conversation. "For some reason the over all impression is that I'm a person of dangerous intentions," and again a faint smile plays along her lips, "clearly none of you have seen how awful I am in hand to hand exercises." "I'm afraid a government which rules through fear brings mistrust upon itself," Enb'Zik offers in explanation, "Many still connect you to that government." He looks over at the marine and nods a silent greeting in return to him before turning back to Lynae, letting himself smile at her quip. "I wish the best for you and your patient, Doctor," he comments, "I'm afraid the time is upon me to be moving on now. This conversation has been very enlightening to me. May the Force be with you." Lynae inclines her head slightly in acceptance of the parting statement, "I sincerely doubt that the force is anywhere near me, Sir, but I appreciate the sentiment. And, in the same light, may you find what you need, if not necessarily what you're looking for." With that she gestures with one hand towards the Marine and turns to begin moving through the plaza at a slow casual pace.